


Drunk Dial Hawkeye Style

by goldilocks



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 06:40:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3600075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldilocks/pseuds/goldilocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like the title says - Clint Barton drunk dials Kate Bishop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk Dial Hawkeye Style

**Author's Note:**

> Answer to the tumblr prompt - Clint/Kate + 'Are you drunk?'

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.  _Click._

"ughhghggggghhhhhhhello?"

"Kate! Katie, Kate, Katiekins, my friend, my partner, my flower, how are you  _doing_?”

“ _Your flow_ — Clint. It’s—“ Loud crashing sound. Swearword. Something being slapped or hit or punched. Not alive. Hopefully. Well, certainly not alive now. Sounds kind of heavy-ish and plastic. “Stupid alarm clock.  _Shit._  Clint.” His name, said like an expletive, followed by the loudest, longest groan he’s ever heard. “It’s 3:48am.”

“Well, it’s 9:56am somewhere in Europe,” he slurs, triumphantly.

“That’s not even…” Pause. “Wait. You. Are you drunk?  _You’re drunk_.”

“Well, if three and a half beers makes me drunk, then alert the newspapers. Shocking discovery, the mighty Avenger can’t hold his liquor!” None of those words sounded right, even he can hear it.

“You get drunk off those little brandy chocolate pralines.”

“Hey, those are strong!”

“Also, you’re not mighty. Thor’s the mighty one.”

“Aww, Kate.”

“The hour is ungodly, Clint. You’re lucky I’m not throwing insults left and right. ”

“Okay, well.”

“Why’d you call me?”

“Uhhh.” Why  _did_  her call her? To hear her voice? No, that can’t be it. He listens to it every day. Phoning her was instinctive, automatic. He just came home, kicked off his chucks and grabbed the phone, dialling Kate’s number without even thinking about the digits. “I guess I just… I wanted to— Hey, Kate, did you know Steve is really good at beer pong? Like, really, insanely good. I mean, he’s the only one who stays sober all night, but, really, is there anything in this world that man can’t—“

“Cllllliiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnt.” Nope, he was wrong.  _That_  was the longest groan he’s ever heard in his entire life. “I had a really long day. Lotsa bad guys. Lotsa ugly bad guys. Lotsa ugly, dead bad guys. My whole right side is shot to hell. I know Steve’s an amazing human specimen. I’ve seen the super-pecs. Can we do this tomorrow?”

Pause. 

“Coffee first thing in the morning? My place?”

“If first thing isn’t before 11.”

“It’s 11:15, actually.”

“Well, you know I can’t say no to that. Now drink a glass of water, Clint, and go to bed. Good night.”

“Sure thing, Hawkeye. ‘Night.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @ antoinetripletts.


End file.
